progress
Once there was a girl, and she thought she was ugly and unproportioned and very unpretty and fancied she’d never find a true love at all.
Once a girl met a boy, and he thought she was pretty and said she was beautiful and he told her he loved her more than anything and swore he’d never hurt her, never at all.
Once there was a girl whose boy saw another girl, and he thought her amazing and beautiful and funny, and the other girl liked her boy and the girl was very uncomfortable.
Once this girl felt unspecial and she saw what was happening and she thought her face was greasy and that she had too much acne and that she’d put on too much weight and was very plain indeed.
Once there was a girl, and she got her boy stolen and it hurt and she though she was fat and ugly and undesired by all and very unworthwhile.
Once a girl got her heard ripped out and shred appart and she thought she was ugly and fat worthless and unwanted.
Once there was a girl and she thought she was a freak and very much ugly and too tan and was covered in acne and too hideous to place eyes upon.
And once there was a girl, and she thought she was smart so she slashed each Goddamn wrist and she thought she was beautiful as her skin drained of color and went numb and she felt happy and she hoped he was glad because now he didn’t have to lie about how “beautiful” she was and she thought that now she really was beautiful.
And she was.
She was.
2000 (the long war)
On Diego Garcia, a pearl in the Indian Ocean,
ominous stealth planes are waiting to take off
and bomb Iran, too late to stop the beast that
lurks in the heart of man,
The monster awoke after the carnage in Falluja;
now it wants burning cities, poisoned land and
rivers of sacrificial blood. The air smells of rain
the drought has lasted long.
Fulumb Lerrinigwla (Nonsense Poem)
utional ject ot
ousa cur ildin
dribbige kai hoppokeck
inge flabber strunt
hopewing mitterstuk vammanope
prinringkay droffvelpipe
sadfankas
memota ject oj
ousa kimva felb
brisis vri hoppokeck
inge vammanope strunt
beseday arco fulumb
datrimoka femmessingop
lerrinigwla
sanfrakas lerrinigwla
sopuvit perishmite zep
tot arco flabber
fulumb hequintis zilla
presjus roral fulumb
sepafape perlevesque
dribbige
ot dribbige utional
cur gvesuem plents
tueyeum ub
zervesay tellish maup
strunt presjus huz
xeminiaste beseday zilla
kimva
The Tycoon
When the shipping tycoon, in my home town, died they
dipped him (Best suit and shoes) in liquid plastic and
when dry the put him on a towering plinth so he could
watch over us for all time. Birds took a great interest in
the statue and soon covered in green and grey droppings
and so it was high up in the air and difficult to clean, birds
were therefore declared illegal immigrants and shot dead.
A night bird, (perhaps an owl), pecked holes in the statue’s
shoes, the body inside, now slime, ran down the plinth into
the drain and down a gutter, the plastic casing imploded and
hung like a condom in a window sill of a house scandalized
by unproven rumours. Since seedy facts about the tycoon’s
shady dealings and sexual custom (paedophile) had since,
come to light - as foam in a sewer- no new statue was made.
End of an Affair
He had been busy all morning digging a hole
in the corner of the garden, rich black soil and
fat worm the spade brought up, but now in
the forenoon it was getting hot, took his jacket
off hang it on branch of an apple tree rolled
himself a cigarette, lit it and inhaled deeply,
white smoke drifted upwards slowly in a breeze
a whisper gently telling him of May now on he
would have to walk on long roads alone now.
The hole it was big enough, went into the shed
came out with a body wrapped in an old carpet,
softly eased it into the grave; began filling it in.
Suddenly he stopped took off his glasses sank
down on soggy lawn and cried.
The Rainbow
An immense rainbow arched across
the valley its colours bright heralding
happy times and childlike was its smile
From the east, however, a huge black
cloak shrouded the day and in the west
the sun paled into insignificance
Lightening struck and the thunder that
followed paled the iris into a brand
name on a faded sweat stained t-shirt.
Shocked rain paused before splashing
down turning roads into rivers, fields
into lakes…and another war began.
Where I Live
This house is still on fire;
This house is still in flames.
Women carry pails of water
Up from the stream
But this house is still on fire.
Passers-by, concerned,
Cry for help and pull alarms
But this house is still on fire.
Volunteer firefighters
Smash out the windows
But this house is still on fire.
Police surround the place
With yellow caution tape
But this house is still on fire.
This house is still on fire;
This house is still in flames.
This house is still on fire;
This house cannot burn down.
old friend
A Forgotten friend
It’s me don’t you remember me? We went to school
Together, looked into an old face, watery eyes, pale
blue almost white, nothing there to tell me that once
he had been a child; we had much fun those days, he
said and told stories I recognised.
He guffawed so did I, but my heart was full of fear,
watched him walk away wearing his elderliness
snugly as a favourite winter coat. No, I did not
remember him. Mirror, mirror in my mind who’s
the prettiest of them all?.
Reckoning
Mangled dreams litter the road to
Damascus, tears on barbed wire
are spikes of defiance as thoughts
fly from the free to those who
shelter in the land of conformity
and ignorance applaud when leaders,
oozes banalities; while children of
lesser breed play with spent uranium
tipped shells, but this too shall end,
the oppressed will arise and flatten
edifices built for the love of mammon.
Nostalgia
Morning mist sat on the tall knoll looked like
everlasting snow I suddenly got a melancholic
yearning for home. But you are at home for
a mythical place where spring sings and ice floes
break up and play the drum, where pure water
cascades down the mountain side, roaring white
froth free of winter’s misery. Where twilight
arrives at midnight, last an hour and gives way
to sunrise once again. A spring so intense that
trolls get scared and throw rocks down steep
slopes, so be warned. Gentle mist in your haze
I can see a dream.
